So You Want to Be an Auror
by chelseyb
Summary: Tonks wants to be an Auror, & she's determined to let nothing stand in her way. Canon-compliant. Written for the Teachers' Lounge Iron Fic challenge.


**Disclaimer**: The world of Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling. I make no profit from this use.

**Author's Note**: This was written for the Teachers' Lounge Iron Fic challenge. Participants had to write no less than 1500 words in 24 hours using the secret ingredient of Nymphadora Tonks.

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**So You Want to Be an Auror**

"_I was never a prefect myself. My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities … Like the ability to behave myself." – Nymphadora Tonks, chapter 9, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

_April 1989_

"An Auror?"

"An Auror!" Tonks repeated proudly. She leaned back, balancing her chair on two legs.

Across the desk Professor Sprout frowned, absently brushing one flyaway lock of hair from her eyes. "Sit correctly, Nymphadora –"

"Professor," Tonks groused, dragging the word out. "It's Tonks, please?"

"Sit correctly, _Miss Tonks_, or you'll fall, and I don't believe Madam Pomfrey can handle two visits from you in one week." She rested her elbows on her desk, folding her still rather dirty hands. "Now, do you truly believe this is the course you want to pursue with your life? It's not an easy profession."

"Easy is boring. I want to do something exciting! I want to make a difference! I want to be someone! I could be good – no, I could be great!" She beamed, but there was no mistaking the gleam of determination in her bright eyes.

Sighing, Sprout selected a pamphlet from the mass on her desk and slid it across to her headstrong pupil. "The three years of training are among the hardest of post-Hogwarts options, and that's assuming you make it in. They're extremely selective. You'll need at least five N.E.W.T.s. You've no troubles in Transfiguration, your Charms and Defense are up to scratch, but you'll have to work in Herbology. And then there's Potions … You know Professor Snape only accepts Outstanding O.W.L.s."

"Then I'll have to revise more," Tonks proclaimed with a defiant toss of her head. "I can do it, Professor, honest. I truly, truly want this more than anything I've ever wanted in my life."

"You do, don't you?" Sprout considered the teenager for a moment. "I must say, this is not at all what I expected when I scheduled your Careers Advice appointment. Yes, I do believe you can – put the chair _down_, Nymphadora – bring up your marks if you want. I always said you'd do well if only you concentrated as much on your classwork as you do on gallivanting around the castle with Charlie Weasley and Amy Kendrick intent on sundry mischief and exploration. Which brings us to another issue: do you remember what I said at the beginning of the year when you asked why you weren't a prefect?"

Tonks grinned mischievously, swinging her legs. "Um, you said I lacked the ability to behave myself."

"So I did. You've spent the better part of five years up to your neck in detentions, and don't think they won't look at your disciplinary record. You have a very long road ahead of you, Miss Tonks."

"Don't worry, Professor." She lifted her chin, as serious and decisive as she ever was. Auror Tonks. There was just such a _ring_ to it. "I'll study and make better marks and I'll behave, I promise, you'll think I'm someone else. And not because I morphed again. I'm going to do this, Professor. I'm going to be an Auror."

Sprout finally gave her a slow nod, and Tonks nearly jumped out of her seat in triumph. Good thing she didn't, as she most certainly would have lost her precarious balance. "I do believe you will. You're your mother's daughter, as stubborn as any of the Blacks I've taught."

Tonks hated when people brought up her mother's family. She didn't want anything to do with that bunch of inbred nutters, never realizing the inbred comment was an indirect insult to herself. "I'm _not_ a Black," she retorted, setting her jaw in a manner that belied her words. "I'm a Tonks, and it's way better."

"I expect you'd best get used to making that distinction if you're to work in the Ministry." Professor Sprout couldn't help a smile. "Very well. So you're to be an Auror?"

Whatever affirmation Tonks had to that was lost as the chair finally gave up its two-legged dance and crashed to the ground. A groan drifted up from out of sight beyond the desk. "I'm okay."

Sprout shook her head. The future defender of wizardkind, sprawled on a stone floor.

**oOo**

_May 1991_

Hair, brown. Eyes, blue. Piercings, removed. Uniform, standard. She looked like a model student, not a wink or dimple out of place.

The only thing that felt out of place was Tonks herself. The girl who stared out of the mirror was a pale, anxious facsimile of the girl she normally was. Glancing at the clock, she took a steadying breath and headed out. Her classmates shouted encouragement as she left the warm and cozy confines of the Hufflepuff common room for the cold, unforgiving realm of the real world.

"Oof!"

She barely made it past the barrels that concealed the passageway before tripping and falling. Awkwardly twisting around, she kicked the offending form – a languidly sprawled Charlie Weasley.

"What are you doing out here, you prat?"

"Trying to be a good friend and walk you to your interview. Sorry I bothered." He climbed off the floor and offered her a hand, pulling Tonks up in a practiced motion that was second nature after seven years. "You look weird."

She threw him a look of annoyance. "Support, Char. Reassurance. Friendship. Comfort. Are insults included in any of that?"

"Sorry, it's only you look so … normal."

"You even manage to make that sound like an insult," she complained.

"With you, it is." He laughed when she shoved his shoulder, stumbling on the Grand Staircase.

"Come on, Charlie. I'm about to be sick. I'm wearing a bloody headband, for Merlin's sake. Give me a break."

"Alright, alright. You got this. You're a Metamorphmagus, a natural master of disguise."

She nodded.

"You were the first in N.E.W.T. Defense to cast a patronus."

She nodded again, a bit of color returning to her cheeks.

"You're Nymphadora – sorry – Tonks, a lean, mean, dark wizard-killing machine." She gave him a look. "Too much?"

"Nah, it's good. I can do this. I'm going to blow them away." She swallowed, repeating the words to herself.

"I'm sure you will," Charlie muttered. "With your dullness. Ow!"

She raised her fist again in warning. "Not. Helping. Char. I'm not dull!"

"Like that, you are. A real mate tells the truth. The only bit of color you have is your tie. It's just not you, Nym." He sniggered. "I bet even your knickers are plain."

She made a face. "As if you're ever going to find out."

"As if I'd want to." They shared a look of disgust. Snogging Charlie Weasley would be like snogging her brother. Ew.

Before she knew it, they arrived at Professor Sprout's office, where the teacher waited outside and Tonks' future waited within.

"I'll be right here," said Charlie, pulling a box of Every Flavor Beans out of his pocket.

"Are you ready, Miss Tonks?" Professor Sprout asked with a kind smile.

Tonks opened her mouth, but the butterflies in her stomach kept her from speaking. Her fate rested in the hands of three individuals just inside that very room.

"Hey, Nym!" Charlie called. "Just be yourself."

He winked, and suddenly Tonks grinned. She threw the headband on the floor, running a hand through her hair and leaving a wave of bubblegum pink in its wake. Turning the doorknob, she stepped inside and flashed the three stern officials with her brightest smile.

"Hello, I'm Nymphadora Tonks, and I'm going to be an Auror."

**oOo**

_September 1992_

"Wotcher!"

Tonks didn't know what was threatening about a simple greeting, but when she found the business end of Mad-Eye Moody's wand in her eyes, she decided to drop it then and there.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, girl?" he grumbled, lowering his wand.

"No, simply wanted to wish you good morning!" she chirped, following the Auror legend as he locked his office and stumped down the hall. "I was awake until three practicing the new shield technique you taught us yesterday, and I think I have it down now. I thought if you had the time, I could show you in the training room to make sure I'm doing it correctly."

"Not right now, Tonks."

Undaunted, she scrambled to keep up (for a man with a wooden leg, he moved remarkably fast). "Alright. Do you remember that book you loaned me on tracking and revealing spells? I finished it, and I think I'm ready to take my Stealth and Tracking practical again. Maybe, not now but later, you can go through it with me once more. I swear I'll get it right this time."

"I'm busy."

She nodded; of course he was. He was Alastor Moody, the best Auror in the department. "Okay, I won't take any more of your time. I'll just bring the book back, then. Do you have any more? It was fascinating. I never liked to read much as a kid, drove my mum mad, but I found if it's the right –"

"Tonks, do you ever shut up?"

"Not often, but I can." To demonstrate, she sealed her mouth of all but a blithe smile, continuing to follow his trek. Unfortunately she was so focused on Moody that she neglected to watch where she was headed, which was straight into another Auror. Apologizing profusely, she helped pick up his stack of files before giving Moody an abashed grin.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. Or eye. The magical one was always rolling. "C'mere," he growled, pulling her into an empty cubicle. "Sit down. Listen, kid, I've been doing this a long time, and the fact is some people have what it takes and some don't."

"Thanks!" she blurted before realizing what he meant. "Oh. You don't – you don't think I have it?"

"Sorry," he said in a brusque tone. "It's been a year, and it's time someone told you. You're smart enough, and no one will fault your spellwork, but no amount of natural skill at concealment can make up for abysmal tracking and nonexistent stealth. I suppose you're brave, but I don't see you being able to make the tough decisions when it comes down to it. You aren't hard enough, girl."

"But I'll practice! I'll put in as many extra hours in the training sequences as I must to pass. I can do this, Auror Moody! I know I can."

He placed a large hand on her shoulder. "No one doubts your desire, but I've yet to see a trainee make it through on pure pluck, and I've been doing this a long time. Sorry. Take the day off and give it some thought."

Tonks never remembered finding her way to Diagon Alley, but she found herself sitting outside Florean Fortescue's with a large chocolate and strawberry ice cream with nuts and whipped cream.

Was he right? All she'd wanted since she was fifteen was to become an Auror. What else could she do with her life? And the reactions! Charlie would write some sympathetic letter from Romania where he was doing what he loved, and her mum would console her but be secretly glad she couldn't pursue that dangerous path, and her ex-boyfriend Mike would get that smug look of 'I told you so.' A failure. The word tumbled over and over in her mind. A clumsy, morphing failure.

"No."

The vehemence of the word startled a nearby hopeful pigeon, but Tonks didn't notice. She was no failure. She was a Tonks, a Hufflepuff, and a Metamorphmagus, and being an Auror was what she was born to do. Her spoon was still rattling in her bowl when she took off.

She found Moody in the canteen, alone and wand-deep in a thick report.

"You're wrong, old man," she said without preamble.

He took his time looking up, giving her the once-over. Sizing her up, she realized. Finally he nodded. "Alright. Prove it."

**oOo**

_June 1994_

The ceremony was very long and dull and formal, the worst kind, in her opinion. Tonks squirmed like a toddler during the speeches and other nonsense, but eventually she was outfitted in the maroon robes of a proper Auror. Smothered in her parents' hugs, she spotted a few familiar faces in the crowd.

"Go on, I'll meet you back at the house," she told them, promising not to be long.

"Well, well," Mad-Eye Moody said when she approached. "Look at you."

She twirled for his benefit. "Pure pluck looks good on me, doesn't it?"

It was always hard to tell with Moody, but she thought his mouth twisted in some semblance of a smile. "Not bad. I heard you went and proved me wrong, and as that happens so rarely, I had to see it for myself."

"How's retirement?"

"Nearly the worst thing to ever happen to me, second only to you dogging my every step for two years."

She intended to reply with a witty retort, but she threw her arms around him instead, kissing his cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you, Mad-Eye."

He patted her on the back with a gruff, "That's m'girl."

Other new Aurors clamored to shake his hand, so she slipped away, headed unerringly for the bright red head. "You came!"

Charlie Weasley grinned, picking her up and spinning her around. "I wouldn't have missed this for all the dragons in Romania. Who told you pink hair matched maroon robes?"

Laughing, she punched him on the arm. Some things never changed, thank Merlin. "How long are you in England? We need to get together. You're a terrible correspondent, by the way."

"Just a few days. I arrived this morning. Mum has some big dinner planned tonight, but how about we go on a pub crawl tomorrow?"

She grinned. "London won't know what hit it. I'll Floo you."

Tonks made her way through the crowd, heading for the exit. A call made her pause near the door.

"Miss Tonks?"

She turned and gaped. "Professor Sprout? What are you doing here?"

Her old teacher, cleaner and dressed nicer than Tonks had ever seen her at Hogwarts, smiled. "I heard one of my old students had a big day. I had to see this for my own eyes. I am very proud to call you one of my Hufflepuffs, my dear."

"Thanks, Professor," Tonks replied, touched. She leaned forward to give her a warm hug, remembering that long-ago Careers Advice meeting.

"Dare I suggest you never quite discover the ability to behave yourself?" Sprout said as they embraced. "It seems to work well for you."

Tonks grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

The professor took a step back, admiring the new robes. "An Auror?"

"An Auror!" Tonks repeated proudly.


End file.
